CHAPTER XI
WAR TO THE TOOTH
My, but the fieldmice were hopping mad—I mean it truthfully. They hopped up and down on Doctor Muskrat’s flat stone and lashed their tails and chattered. “That vote doesn’t mean anything,” shouted Great-Grandfather Fieldmouse. “We’ve all voted against him and there are more fieldmice here than all of you put together.”
“That isn’t the way we usually vote in the Woods and Fields,” said Doctor Muskrat. “We vote by families. Here are the night birds and the day birds (you know some of the birds can fly by moonlight and they liked Stripes well enough to come) and Nibble Rabbit and Watch the Dog who votes for Tommy Peele. If you want to vote by tails we’ll call a day meeting so all the birds can come.”
Well Great-Grandfather Fieldmouse knew that wouldn’t be any use. There are too many birds. So he said: “This is a fur vote. The birds haven’t anything to say.”
“Very well, then, shall I call a fur vote, at noon, a week from to-day?” asked Doctor Muskrat.
But Great-Grandfather Fieldmouse was afraid that all Stripes Skunk’s friends would use that chance to eat all the mice they could hold and reduce the vote. He turned to Watch. “This matter really only concerns Tommy Peele,” said he. “Can he afford to fight the fieldmice?”
“He can afford to stand by his friends,” Watch answered.
Then Great-Grandfather Fieldmouse spoke to Stripes himself. “Will you force us to fight?” he asked, “or will you go? Remember, Tad Coon has already vanished. Will you risk the same fate from the fieldmice? I warn you!”
“I will stay,” Stripes answered firmly.
“Then it is war! War to the tooth!” announced Great-Grandfather Fieldmouse. And off he humped, followed by all his family.
“Now what do you suppose those mice did to Tad Coon?” mused Doctor Muskrat.
Nibble takes the lady mouse to Doctor Muskrat